


Shades of Draenor: Priorities

by Cazadora, Shaliara



Series: A path of sun and bones [3]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Death Knight, Demons, Draenor, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Past Character Death, Priest, Warcraft Lore, World of Warcraft: Warlords of Draenor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazadora/pseuds/Cazadora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaliara/pseuds/Shaliara
Summary: “Kalethis!” Junre barked at him as he took him by the arm. “You are bleeding!”(Set approximately 7 months and a half into the Draenor Campaign)
Relationships: Female Blood Elf | Elves/Male Blood Elf | Elves (Warcraft), Junre/Kalethis Moonspear, Junre/Nyquist Duskfeather (past), Male Blood Elf | Elves/Male Blood Elf | Elves (Warcraft)
Series: A path of sun and bones [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542976
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Shades of Draenor: Priorities

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Laireshi for her beta <3

Things had begun to settle in Draenor despite the Horde’s chaotic and accidented entrance in the foreign world and timeline, and as the weeks passed, the Garrison the faction was using as a centre of operations in the Frostfire Ridge started to take shape. In those weeks, champions of the Horde had also scouted the lands, finding allies and foes both, but particularly resources for the growing fortress.

Kalethis himself had traveled beyond the frozen lands they had settled in and into Nagrand, which had left him speechless the moment he set eyes on the grassy plains. It felt familiar, but also new and strange, in a pleasant way. Similar was the feeling he had towards the Death Knight named Junre, who had become a recurrent partner in the quests around Draenor. Something about the man made him curious, and he found himself staring at him more often than he’d like anyone to notice. After all, the last thing Kalethis would want was having a team member feeling uncomfortable or uneasy around him. However, adventures had allowed for some exchanges between them, and although they had been mostly formalities, it helped the priest to sate some of his curiosity. On this particular day, nonetheless, Kalethis wasn’t constantly checking on Junre out of curiosity. He was making sure he was still standing.

The Garrison was usually filled to the tops with soldiers, champions and workers, actively moving from one place to another, organising expeditions, planning improvements on their fortress or training for the upcoming battles. But some days, like that one, Frostwall housed fewer people as most champion teams were out there completing diverse tasks. In these cases, a few remained, either resting before their next assignment or patrolling. In these cases… they were more vulnerable, and the Shadow Council was determined to take this chance to strike and root out Azeroth’s Horde from Draenor. The first signal of the invasion had been the dark and red sky above them, followed by the pestilent air emanating from the weapons of the demons who appeared around the fortress in the blink of an eye, as if they had always been there. Horns echoed around, war cries accompanied, and then all that could be heard were swords clashing, spells bursting and demonic rumbling. There hadn’t been enough time to prepare, and it showed.

Still, the Horde fought back fiercely and relentlessly, the champions currently there aiding as much as they could. Kalethis himself was making sure the soldiers could keep fighting with healing spells and magic shields at the same time as he guided and defended the defenseless peons and workers into the main hall. From that spot, he could also keep track of the other champions in case they needed healing or assistance. Particularly, he paid attention to the main gates of Frostwall, from where the thick of the Council’s forces were trying to access. There, Junre was leading their best soldiers, and they were handling the situation quite well, efficiently taking down the strongest enemies before they were able to wreak havoc. The whole fight was intense and bloody, but it seemed it was coming to an end in favor of the Horde despite the initial shock, for the numbers of the demonic faction were visibly decreasing. It was at this moment that Kalethis made the serious mistake of letting his guard down.

Sharp and cold steel cut through his tunic and into his back, causing him to gasp as he tried to turn around and only managed to fall on his side. An Alliance spy had taken the opportunity and snuck in while everybody else was too busy fighting to notice him, and now was smiling down at him, cocky, suggesting a not-so quick death for the tired and wounded priest. A deafening thunder flashing green augured a different fate for the both of them, though, as a meteorite crossed the sky and crashed near them, throwing the spy to the floor.

“Infernal!” he heard someone scream as the rock-built demon rose and crushed the human, then setting it’s fel glowing orbs on him.

“Anar’alah belore…” Kalethis muttered, knowing he’d be unable to cast a strong enough shield to protect himself.

Someone jumped between them in a swift motion, stopping the attack that would have surely ended the priest’s life, but remaining dazed at the massive hit from the Infernal, who struck again, sending his savior flying against the main hall’s wall.

It was then that he recognized Junre, who got up despite his wounds willing to throw himself at the demon once more. Kalethis tried to focus. The Death Knight’s chest plate was swollen and sliced at a side, and blood pouring from it suggested a severe wound, together with a cut on his right forearm that also dripped scarlet drops. Fortunately, the Garrison defenders assaulted the foe before it had the chance to strike again, pushing it back until it cracked and died in an explosion that served as the conclusion of the invasion.

“For the Horde!” Sergeant Grimjaw roared, everyone in the Garrison raising their fists as they joined his cry in a sound that at that very moment felt quite annoying for Kalethis. He stood up with the help of a peon he had previously saved and rushed to check on the Death Knight, who was now sitting against the very wall that had left him in pain.

“You saved me,” Kalethis spoke with severity, kneeling in front of him to evaluate his wounds. His main fear were the internal injuries the knight seemed to have around his torso, quite possibly a broken rib, and that required his immediate attention, so with as much delicacy as he could, he removed the armor piece. Doing so made his own wound sting as if the blade was thrust into him again, but he managed to hide it quite well, trying to ignore it as much as he could.

“You save a lot of people,” he replied, grabbing the priest’s hand to stop him as soon as he realized he was casting a healing spell using the Shadows. “Don’t use shadows on me.”

“Hey,” Kalethis grabbed Junre’s chin to look straight into his eyes, speaking with a harder tone than usual. “These are no lesser wounds and they are definitely not the ones we should be playing around with. I understand and respect your distrust towards the Shadows, but not over your own life. I’d rather have you hate me for it than see you die, so consider this one on me.”

Junre seemed slightly surprised at his reaction and pondered it for a second.

“Proceed,” he nodded in a sigh.

“Thank you,” Kalethis began to cast his spell again, placing his hands gently on Junre’s side to channel his power there, remaining silent until he was done, then focusing on the wound on his arm. “I have to clean it. It may sting a bit.”

The healer opened his waterskin and carefully washed Junre’s forearm. The cut was deeper than he had anticipated, and he immediately felt remorse for what his stupidity had caused. Alas, regret wasn’t going to be helpful there, so he pushed those thoughts aside and pressed the wound with the palm of his hand.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, concerned.

“I have had worse.”

Kalethis nodded, understanding he hadn’t taken too well his decision not to use the light to heal him, and although he felt a bit saddened about the whole situation, he let it be. He caressed the wound a last time with a touch of magic and then realized there wasn’t much more he could do at the moment. Junre had stopped bleeding and the wound didn’t seem nearly as bad as it did at the beginning, but it would still need to be bandaged and periodically checked. Kalethis signaled two workers so they would approach and help Junre stand up.

“Go to the barracks, Leena must be there. She’ll have bandages for your arm. And make sure to lie on your left side and rest.”

The priest turned around to see who else required his abilities and was almost thrown back to the floor by the piercing pain in his back. That stabbing he had successfully ignored for this long was now making itself present in a pulsating way, and although it had left him breathless for a moment, he pressed the wound with a hand and tried to compose himself.

“Kalethis!” Junre barked at him as he took him by the arm. “You are bleeding!”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’ll get patched up as soon as I’ve hea-”

Junre’s severe stare froze him in his place.

“You will heal nothing if you are dead,” he cut him, stone cold.

The priest raised his eyebrows with a gasp, speechless for a moment.

“I’ve… no intention to die,” Kalethis replied, half closing his eyes. “But if that’s what it takes to save others I’m fine with it. Now go before you start bleeding again.”

Not wanting to give Junre the time to reply, he began to walk away. Deep down he wanted to apologize, but the conversation and the whole situation had left him extremely upset at everything, starting with himself, and the pain wasn’t helping much. So he didn’t turn around and kept walking until he reached a group of soldiers that had been gathered on the floor near the infirmary, and now lay right at the edge between life and death.

“Priest!” a female orc who was holding one of the soldier’s hand waved at him. “I beg you, please, help him!”

“Him” was a young druid troll who was trying to keep the wounded alive with the powers of nature, but he was having a lot of trouble powering up the spell, probably due to the tiredness of the battle. Sweat drops fell down his face, expression contracted for the effort he was making, unwilling to give up on those soldiers. And despite all of this, he smiled at the priest.

“I be doing my best, mon, but it doesn’t seem to be enough.”

“Don’t give up, you are doing great.” Kalethis smiled back at him, removing his bloodied hand from his injury to cast a spell, one he hoped would be strong enough to at least stabilize those dying and even heal himself enough to remain standing afterwards. He extended his arms and expelled a holy nova, covering those inside its aura with a warm and soothing light. Together with the young troll’s magic, the men and women who were agonizing seemed to calm. Moaning and shivering stopped, and upon checking on them they saw they were all now unconscious, but ready to be attended by other healers.

“Aka’Magosh,” the orc sighed, relieved.

“We did it mon!” the druid cheerfully shook his hand.

“No, you did it,” Kalethis patted his back, feeling slightly better. “Get some rest, you’ve earned it. I’ll take it from here.”

“Wait, mon. You be bleeding! Let me heal ya.”

The priest waved it off.

“I’m already feeling better. Go take care of yourself, I will follow soon enough.”

* * *

That wasn’t the case, and he knew he’d pay for that when he felt he had overdone himself. He hadn’t gone to the infirmary until every survivor had been checked and he was left with no mana, when the moons shone bright in a sky full of stars and most were asleep. Leena wasn’t one of them. The young elven priestess had been waiting for him to come in all evening, and by the look in her eyes Kalethis anticipated a scolding that happened while she bandaged his wound and set him to sleep. He never admitted it, but he loved it when she scolded him like that… It reminded him of long gone days in Quel’Thalas and it did make him smile. Leena, uncertain of what was so amusing to him, would end up just sighing and asking him to just be more careful and self conscious. This time she pointed out his injury would leave a scar due to how much it had taken for it to be healed, but for the priest that was a little price to pay, especially during moments when so many lives were at risk.

At least, as the years passed he had learned to place an emotional barrier in his heart as soon as he left the field, for how else would he fall asleep if every gone and wounded soul haunted him in dreams. That night, however, he didn’t rest too well. Not that he expected otherwise.

For starters, he had arrived so late no beds were left, so he made himself uncomfortable in the small storage room at the back of the building. He frequently woke up, the pain in his back kindly reminding him not to turn around in his sleep. As it happens during these kind of nights, when he was only half dreaming, he questioned decisions and words he had spoken that day, among them his argument with Junre. Particularly, he wondered if he had handled the situation right, and whether or not it was his call to decide how others, Junre, wanted to be healed, and if imposing the Light or the Shadows was a morally correct stance, even if judging which was the better way to heal was part of his job and duty. These thoughts thickened when the sun began to rise and the first rays of light greeted him straight to the face, making it obvious sleep time was over for him. Normally, he would have either turned to the other side to dream a bit more or gotten up and go for a walk, but since neither of them were an option he remained there, letting his body rest to the very least as he kept asking himself questions he couldn’t answer.

Eventually he heard some movement outside and someone came into his improvised room. He initially assumed it would be Leena to check on him, maybe bring some breakfast since he hadn’t had anything solid since midday from the previous day, but to his surprise it turned out to be Junre, who sighed when he saw him bandaged.

“Are you alright? The healers told me you spent the whole evening helping out,” he said, in a much more calm tone than the last time they had talked.

“Yeah, I am, I even got my own private room.” Kalethis smiled, joking in case the man was still upset. “How are you?”

“Good. But I wanted to properly apologize for what happened yesterday.”

The priest then noticed the bandage around the Death Knight’s arm was soaked in blood.

“By the light, they didn’t heal that wound, come here,” he protested as he tried to sit up, Junre trying to stop him in vain.

“Don’t get up, you will hurt yourself!”

“I’ve spent far too long lying face down,” he waved it off, then pat a spot next to him as he grabbed some healing materials. “And I promise, I won’t use any magic this time.”

The other man sighed heavily.

“Kalethis, I’m serious.” He sat next to him to get his attention. “I’m sorry. You were right, I was being stubborn and you were only trying to help me. And I wasn’t kind to you, so forgive me for that. With all the chaos I was slightly overwhelmed and… I felt confused. Seeing you get hurt just made everything worse.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize, it’s understandable.” Kalethis gently took his right arm as he spoke and began changing the bandages to some clean ones. “I’m the one who owes you an apology. You asked something of me and instead I made the opposite decision for you, and that wasn’t right. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stand seeing you suffer even more.”

Junre gave him a slight smile, something the priest greatly appreciated.

“No hard feelings, then?” the Knight asked.

“None.”

“Good. It seems we are both quite stubborn.” He smiled a bit more, and the healer chuckled. “Thank you, Kalethis.”

He tapped the priest’s hand, which he hadn’t realized he had left on Junre’s arm and immediately blushed.

“You can call me Kale,” he grinned, slowly removing his hand as he tried to conceal his embarrassment, but although Junre remained silent for a bit, it didn’t feel awkward, but somewhat comforting. Even warm.

“Kale?” his expression changed to a more serious one as he seemed to give a thought to what he was about to say. “Look… I don’t like the Shadows because they stole every good thing in my life.”

His sentence was slow and severe, as if he had carefully decided each and every one of the words he was putting in it. Because of this, Kalethis didn’t ask or say anything. He’d remember his words, but right now he decided to listen, giving the man the time to express himself.

“But… I remember that time, when you were healing my companions using the Light, but as soon as you reached me, you used Shadows.”

Kale understood there was a silent “why?” at the end of the phrase and unconsciously smiled.

“Right… You see, I’m used to doing so with Akers. He’s my little brother.”

“Is he…?”

“He fell at Quel’Thalas, but then returned to me,” Kalethis grinned at the floor. “When I saw him, so alive and full of energy as he usually was I… I almost couldn’t believe it.”

Junre frowned, confused.

“You almost make it sound as if it was a blessing.”

Kalethis’ smile became bittersweet as he turned to the Death Knight.

“I’m no fool, Junre. Hell knows it’s not easy. It wasn’t. At first I had no idea how to feel about Death Knights when they got freed of Arthas’ control. Until I saw my brother. By then my options were abandoning him like the rest of his family did, or seeing it as a second chance given to him.”

“You clearly picked the second option.”

“I looked straight into his eyes,” he answered, doing the same to Junre now, the Knight able to see tears that wouldn’t fall. “I expected to see nothing, and instead I saw pain and sadness. I saw so much loneliness… and then, I saw love. His soul had been scarred, but not broken. I anticipated a monster and what I found... was my brother.”

Junre closed his eyes and curved his lips slightly.

“He is lucky to have you. You must love him very much.”

“I’d tear down the sky for him. That’s why I use Shadows, he doesn’t deserve any more pain.” This time, a tear ran down his left cheek, though Kale quickly removed it and smiled, trying to recompose himself, silence forming again between both men.

“It took my sister some more time to come around to the idea,” Junre softly said then, Kalethis turning to him curious, realizing this was the first time they talked about themselves. “She had her reasons, though. Powerful reasons.” He made a pause and took a deep breath, “Yet, despite that, she accepted it. I’m glad she is still my family even after the things I did.”

Kale remained silent, waiting to see if he would add something else, but realized the man didn’t feel like going any deeper into it.

“I’m glad, too,” despite his curiosity, he didn’t want to pry on his life, particularly when he knew how rough these matters could be, so he avoided asking any further questions. “You are a good man. I can tell that.”

Suddenly, the Death Knight’s expression shifted, giving the priest a side smile with an eyebrow slightly up.

“Is that what you see in my eyes?” he inquired, causing Kale’s cheeks to go red again.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry if you felt I was trying to...”

“Kale,” he placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m joking. But thank you for this conversation. And for checking my arm.”

“Ah, of course, it is my job,” Kalethis sighed, relieved. “I’m glad you came by.”

Junre stood up to leave, but turned around before he reached the door.

“Kale? Do me a favor. Take care of yourself too. We’ll talk later.”

The priest blinked twice as the man left, then muttered: “I’m looking forward to it...”

* * *

The day promised to be long, especially since Kalethis had woken up so early, but also because the fortress had to recover and quickly get back to work. Peons and workers moved from one place to another, removing the corpses and repairing the damaged buildings caused by the incursion. The fresher soldiers patrolled inside and out of the Garrison in case there was a retaliation, and the healers tended to the wounded.

The priest wasn’t allowed to do much, since Leena had made sure to let everyone know he was another of the injured, so he had to resign himself to some minor work like bandage changing and check-ups. And even then, the young priestess complained that he would fall ill due to the lack of rest, and as soon as the sun started to fall, she dismissed him from the infirmary.

“Have some dinner and go to bed,” she urged Kalethis, pointing to the door. “You’ve done more than enough already, and I have no wish to see you like last night again.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one telling you what to do, miss?” he grinned, poking her forehead.

“I might be your apprentice, but I’m also the one assigned to this building,” Leena replied, crossing her arms with a proud smile. “My infirmary, my rules.”

“Hah, getting cocky with me, aren’t you?”

“Get out before I call my guards,” she joked.

“Fine, I’ll leave.” They both walked to the door and Kalethis tenderly kissed her forehead. “You are doing an excellent job here, Leena. I’m really proud of you.”

She sighed with a smile and gently punched his shoulder, as she usually did when they had such moments.

“Thanks, dad. I’m trying to do my best here. I owe you a lot for your teachings. Now, go! Hush!”

Kalethis shook his head, chuckled and complied. Leena had been his apprentice for five years now, and they had created a sort of father-daughter relationship that turned out to be more fitting than they had initially assumed. For one, Leena had lost both parents to the Scourge, and found with Kalethis and Akers a new family she could rely on. The priest himself had his own reasons. It felt like ages since someone called him “dad”, and it felt nice to hear it again, so he allowed her to continue joking till the point they got used to it.

Upon leaving the building, Kalethis was welcomed with the warm light of the sun, relieving compared to the cold that reigned in the Frostfire Ridge. He almost stretched, but stopped as soon as he remembered the wound on his back. He looked around and saw people scattered as they had dinner, courtesy of a couple of orcs who had set a little stall near the tavern and were feeding the Garrison’s inhabitants. He checked around the fortress again with his eyes, looking for the Death Knight. At the top of a rock near the entrance he distinguished his shape, overlooking the ridge and the sun that was hiding behind the mountains. Kalethis found himself smiling. It was a really comfortable picture, compared to the one he had of him the previous day, fighting, hurt and upset. He had his doubts about joining him, but the fact he had checked on him that morning pushed him to do the same for him, and before heading to where he was, he stopped by the stall and got two steamy rations of soup.

“Am I disturbing you?” he politely asked when he reached the Death Knight, who turned to him with a slight smile.

“Not at all,” he replied, inviting him to sit by moving a bit to the side. “I’m just avoiding the multitudes.”

“I get that, it’s quiet up here.” He accommodated himself next to Junre and offered him a bowl. “I got you some dinner.”

“Thank you,” his lips curved more, and just like that morning, that made Kalethis smile as well. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

The priest turned to the sunset and nodded. This sunset was very different from the one the day before. It was calm and soothing, hypnotizing. The light refracted in the snow making it glitter and glow in a reddish color, while the sky seemed to be on fire behind the landscape. It was so pretty it made Kale forget about everything else for a moment. He felt his whole body relaxing, and when he looked at Junre, he noticed he was as well. He seemed peaceful, not constantly on alert, as the priest thought he usually was. His face glowed like the snow and the sun reflected in his eyes, which turned to him as he noticed Kalethis staring.

“What is it?” he gently asked.

“Just thinking,” he focused on the sunset again. “It’s sad this place doesn’t even exist in our time.”

“I feel, in a way, that’s part of Draenor’s charm,” Junre spoke, doing a pause to have some soup. “This land is both familiar and new, and as savage as beautiful. But it also represents another chance.”

“Like an unwritten book,” the priest pondered, which made the Death Knight eye him with a cryptic side smile and a slightly surprised look.

“Exactly.”

Kalethis got the impression he was talking about himself too, and not just the alien world.

“It’s a chance to do history in quite a different way.”

“Among other things,” Junre nodded, losing himself to the view. The sun was almost entirely gone, letting the night sky be seen above its trail.


End file.
